


Black Bag With Sparkly Witches

by ro_mm_ck



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Crossover, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-02
Updated: 2009-03-02
Packaged: 2017-10-11 18:50:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ro_mm_ck/pseuds/ro_mm_ck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different point of view on what happened to Willow, her house, and her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Bag With Sparkly Witches

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the wonderful Shannon. She's had a hard year and is just an awesome chick so here comes the fic. I couldn't think of a damn thing to write so I emailed catatonic1242 with what you like to read and write... this is what she came up with. _Okay, Willow/Snape -- "How long could it last? They share Halloween together; write about it from a trick-or-treat bag of candy's point-of-view."_

Life on a Hellmouth was never dull, that was for sure. Even from the back of a store shelf, I'd seen things that most humans wouldn't have noticed. One year I watched out the windows as children became their costumes, running amuck in the town as demons and monsters. Random happenings in the town of Sunnydale came and went and still I sat on my shelf waiting to be sold. When my first home closed, I was sure everything was over for me, but luckily it wasn't. After a violent fight right in front of me, where I have to tell you I feared for my life, someone took me home. She was very pretty, red hair and pale skin. She picked me up after a fight with a demon and smiled at the silver witches sewn into the black fabric of my skin.

"Witches..." she said and tucked me into her backpack. She hung me on her wall and I watched her grow up mostly alone. I watched her cry when a friend died and wished I could give her a hug or at least pat her on the shoulder. The problem with being a sentient inanimate object is that you can't do a thing about the things going on around you.

Eventually I saw less and less of her as she spent more time away from home. Years went by and she would only stop in for a few moments to grab a few things and then head back to her dorm with Buffy. She never changed her room so I still hung on the wall just waiting for her to return.

One day she came back with large boxes and began to divide things into piles labeled "trash", "charity", and "keep". I wished and prayed, as much as a trick-or-treat bag can, that I'd make it into that keep box but I didn't hold out much hope for myself. When she started on the walls I waited for her to decide my fate. When she pulled the pin that held my strings up, she smiled at me. There _was_ hope!

"Witches," she said once again and smiled as she tucked me into the keep box. I was joined with some splintering wooden stakes and a few other knickknacks from her dresser and carried outside. It was the first time I'd been out of the house in years and I was excited to see what my witch had planned for me. I was loaded into a car and put on someone's lap. He looked familiar but I couldn't quite place him as I hadn't seen him in years.

"Is this all you're taking, Willow?" I heard a gravely voice say from the front seat of the car.

"I haven't lived in my parent's house in a long time," she said as an explanation.

"Wills grabbed most of her other stuff before," the man whose lap I was sharing said. We bounced for a few moments as we pulled out of her driveway.

"Xander, can you hand me the bag I put in there?" she asked from the passenger seat.

Xander! That was his name. How could I have forgotten? There were several nights spent mooning over this boy. Things must have changed since she moved away from home.

Xander pulled me out of the bag and handed me up to my witch. She smiled at me and looked back at Xander and asked, "Do you remember this?"

"No. What's it from?" he said with a confused look on his face. "Magic Box? Before it blew up those twelve times?"

"No. It's from Ethan's," she said and then laughed when Xander's eyes grew huge as he looked at me.

"What's Ethan's and why does the boy look as if he's just swallowed a goldfish?" the man with the long black hair asked.

"I'm not a boy, Snape!" Xander said with a squawk. "Everything from that store is evil! One Halloween all of the costumes actually made people turn into what the costume was."

The man called Snape looked at Willow and raised his eyebrows. "Really? And what did you turn into?" he asked.

"A ghost," she answered. "That dying bit was not fun. Not recommended."

"And you, boy?" Snape asked Xander.

Xander grumbled before saying, "I turned into a soldier."

"Interesting," Snape said with a look I couldn't name. He looked like that man Angel when he'd looked at my witch after he'd disposed of her fish. It was that same kind of hunger and evil. I decided I didn't like this man Snape. Willow had cried after Angel had looked like that.

My witch looked at his face and laughed. She shook her head and looked back at Xander and pointed at him. "You're in for it later, Xan. He's got it in his head now and you're going to be forced into some fatigues and some interesting positions, I can just feel it."

"How long could it last?" Xander said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh I feel we may have a very long night ahead of us," Snape said and clutched the steering wheel as we sped down the road. He licked his lips and smiled at Willow as she started to squirm in her seat. "A very long night, indeed."

If I had a forehead I would wrinkle it. I'm never going to understand humans.

The End.


End file.
